The Yes Woman: Happiness is beyond our control; contentment is a better goal

Feeling down, I draw inspiration from a dog that appreciates what’s in front of him

Dogs have the ability to live in the moment. Photograph: Thinkstock
Dogs have the ability to live in the moment. Photograph: Thinkstock

Happiness is a debilitating concept. Various philosophers put forward explanations of what it is and how to obtain it, but, after much thought and reading, I have come to the conclusion that happiness – at least as our culture currently recognises it – is an illusion.

That sounds a bit sad, but it isn’t. It takes a weight off the shoulders. Happiness often occurs when the outside world steps into our lives and affirms us. A new relationship will elate us for a while. A flattering job offer or another achievement will make us feel actualised, joyful and valid. In the long term, however, the greatest stuff of everyday experience is encapsulated by one drab word: contentment.

If you are thoroughly content in your relationship or job, you’re very lucky. Contentment implies a quietly confident sense of self and an enjoyment in one’s life that is measured rather than frenzied. Past a certain age, the joints grow too stiff and the days too short for frenzy. Happiness happens to us from outside. It is an immediate and total euphoria; no wonder we so crave it. Contentment is something we forge by force of will and intellect. It sustains us quietly.

This column is about saying yes to new things, where I would previously have said no, my default setting. As with many Irish people, there is a belief (though I loathe it) down in my bones that feeling comfortable about your appearance, or your life in general, is a heinous self-indulgence. Knowing oneself is less recognising the good and bad and accepting it, and more the realisation that, because you always mispronounce “prodigy” or have a big bum, you shouldn’t feel entitled to feel good about yourself.

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Relative concept

This week, I’ve endeavoured to create contentment for myself because, to a certain extent, being content is an active decision. Unless a person is genuinely depressed, or lacks the basics such as housing or enough to eat, happiness is a relative concept.

We all know that catastrophising and constant negative thinking make every situation worse. Sometimes the only power we have in a situation is to choose how we see it and what we will do with it. This week I’ve shelved the pessimism and taken full responsibility for my own contentment by trying to do things to make everyday life nicer.

Bad news day

After receiving some bad news about a person I care for, I find myself sitting in my livingroom, staring at the wall and seeping out of my own bones. That sense of being dully absent from my body is a classic sign I am beginning to lose myself a bit, so I go for a walk. I leave my house on a sunny day and walk in a direction I’ve never taken before.

While standing in the middle of Ranelagh, watching an elegant pedigree dog attempting to wrestle half a cooked chicken out of a bin, I resolve to make more effort. His owner, a well-dressed woman, clacks over and says, with deep embarrassment, in a whisper-shout, as one might to a toddler drinking from the toilet, “Jesus, Waffles, would you conduct yourself?” I’m not sure how she wants Waffles to conduct himself, but the moment makes my day nicer, so I store it away to remember later, and resolve to store every instance of humour and positivity I encounter.

A few months ago I fell out with an old friend. It was an understated affair; one of those very Irish fallings-out where something socially uncomfortable happens at a party and you just cease to contact one another. I saw an aspect of my friend’s character I didn’t recognise or like, and I made a judgment. My friend made a judgment. Everyone in the room made a judgment. We parted ways politely and didn’t get in touch afterwards.

Taking a leaf from Waffles’ book – he clearly lives in the now and appreciates what is in front of him – I resolve not to lose years of wonderful friendship because of one evening. I go home and write to my friend. I reopen communication between us and feel content. I buy some daffodils for the livingroom, and store the image of their merry, truncated little faces for later. I’ll need it the next time I forget that I am master of my outlook.

International Happiness Day is Friday 20th March